Vines
by Glove23
Summary: Hanahaki AU Mafia AU Dancer AU Keith/Lotor Character death, body horror warning. -Lotor's in love with a boy, but does the boy love him back?-


_**Vines**_

* * *

Graceful.

Fluid.

Enticing.

When he moved, Lotor couldn't focus on anything else but his body. His dark hair brushing his face, his arms moving as if they were just destined to be there. The sway of his hips, the arch of his back.

He was a work of art.

Lotor overheard a few girls talking and learned his name.

Keith.

 _Keith._

His family would never approve, he wasn't one of them. He had no connections, it wouldn't be opportunistic for anything to happen.

That didn't stop Lotor from wishing.

When Lotor got home, his father's assistant approached him, and told him that his father would like to see him in his office.

Fantastic. Lotor knew what was coming, and it filled him with dread.

The marriage arrangement.

"You are to court this Allura, and when we deem the time is right, you are going to marry her." Lotor's father, Zarkon, said. "It will bring our two families together, and give us more allies against the Calrons."

"But Father, I don't even know this girl." And I'm in love with someone else, Lotor added on in his head.

"This isn't up for discussion." Zarkon said, his voice hard. "Now, go prepare yourself for dinner, the Alteas are to be joining us, and you best make a good impression."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least.

The Alteas were brought in, and everyone stood and greeted and got drinks and sat back down again for some lovely, awkward conversation.

Lotor was positioned beside Allura by his father, and he had never felt more trapped in his life.

He didn't know this girl, and he was expected to marry her? Lotor felt nauseated at the thought, and his mind floated to Keith.

Keith.

His mind often wandering to Keith when….well always. His mind always wandered to Keith.

Lotor wished he could talk to Keith, really talk. A full conversation. So far, they'd only had mild greetings and a run in at a coffee shop.

Not much had been said.

As his mind drifted, he glanced over at Allura, and she was texting under the table.

Good to know they were both hopelessly bored.

Lotor went to take a sip of his water, but he started coughing, and felt something come up in his mouth.

He stared at the tabe and tried to figure out what in the world was in his mouth.

What was in his mouth.

What was _in his mouth?_

 _What was in his mouth?_

Lotor was freaking out. It didn't feel like food, like anything that should actually be in his body.

What was in his mouth?

Weeks passed, and Lotor coughed up more and more flower petals. Depending on where he was, it was a different flower.

When he was at the dance studio, watching Keith, the petals were from roses, orange roses.

Around his family, they were gardenias.

Lotor tended not to go much anywhere else.

His veins started to itch on a Tuesday.

It was a sensation he desperately wanted to stop, but he didn't know what was happening.

What was happening to him? How were his veins itching? Why was he coughing up flower petals?

Very specific flower petals. After the first time he coughed up a few different petals, he googled their meanings.

Oranges roses mean desire, according to a farmers almanac. That he understood. Those petals only came when he was around Keith.

There was definitely desire. Definitely.

What Lotor didn't understand is why, why was this happening? Did it have something to do with Keith…. All of the flowers he had coughed up so far had romantic connotations, and he wondered if this was his body's way of telling him he needed to go for it with Keith.

It was certainly worth a try.

If only Lotor could be sure Keith felt the same.

At that thought, he felt a stabbing pain in his neck. Lotor reached his hand up and rubbed at his neck, trying to alleviate the pain. But the only thing that happened was that he felt his veins moving. Writhing. Like his veins were fulls of snakes.

Or vines.

Lotor held his hand to his neck and hoped to god that the weird feeling wasn't visible as he ran out the front door. His destination?

Keith.

He heard the music before he saw the studio. Old pop songs were blaring from speakers inside, and as Lotor came up to the building, he saw him.

Keith.

He was dancing, all movement poised and graceful. He made even music like this beautiful.

He was beautiful.

Lotor stood on the sidewalk outside the studio, watching Keith, building up his courage. The moon shone down brightly on his white hair, and the longer he looked at Keith, the more the things, the vines in his necked writhed.

The music was loud. It drowned all of Lotor's senses, and all he could hear, all he could see, all he could feel, was Keith, Keith, Keith.

That's why he didn't hear the footsteps.

The man was on Lotor before he could blink, a knife in his stomach before he could move, and a voice in his ear before he could think.

 _"Tell your father I said hello."_

The person - _it must be a person, right?_ \- shoved Lotor off their knife and sprinted back the way they came. He heard the rev of an engine, and the slight squeal of tires before he looked down at his wound.

Blood gushed freely, staining his shirt, and ruining his pants. The large gash in his shirt from where the knife went through was open, and Lotor saw something…. _emerging_ from the stab wound.

He put his hand over the wound, and felt something pushing out from his body. Lotor wrapped his hand around whatever it was, and pulled.

Flowers.

Of course.

Long stemmed, red flowers, that he kept pulling from his abdomen. He kept pulling and pulling and pulling, desperately trying to rid himself of these flowers.

It hurt, the stems being yanked from his body. The more he pulled out, the more he realized that all of these flowers still had their roots attached. Like they had been….growing inside of him. That thought terrified him even more, and he kept working until no more flowers pushed their way out of his stomach.

As he knelt on the concrete, gasping for breath, bleeding freely, Lotor looked down at the pile of flowers that came out of him.

They were red, a brilliant bright red, with white towards the center.

And a darker, meaner red speckled over the petals and stems.

His blood.

There were enough flowers to make a bouquet. A very bloody bouquet.

Lotor looked up, and saw Keith. Keith, who was still dancing.

Keith, who had no idea who he was.

Keith, who would never love him.

Lotor looked back down at the flowers, and gathered them all up in his hands. He stood, stumbling, and made his way to the door of the studio, turning the handle and leaving it bloody.

He moved as quietly as he could through the building, hoping Keith wouldn't notice him.

Lotor got to the dressing rooms and shouldered his way through the door, wincing as he stretched his wound in a different way, sending a new warm flow of blood down his body.

He set the bloody bouquet down on Keith's dressing table, and snagged a piece of paper and a pen.

 _I'm sorry. I love you. -L_

He left the note on top of the flowers, and made his way out again, leaving a trail of blood to show exactly where he had been.

Exiting the building, Lotor leaned on the wall for support, smearing it with blood. He patted his pockets, searching for his phone but it was gone. He pushed his hair away from his face, streaking the white with red, and stumbled into an alleyway.

Lotor was having difficulty breathing, and he wasn't sure if it was from the blood loss or the constricting of his veins in his neck.

He gasped out as his heart beat harder, his body filling with adrenaline, and sending a gush of fresh blood from his abdomen. The vines were moving in his neck, writhing, _hurting_.

Lotor choked, and fell again the alley wall, sliding to the ground, his hands going to his neck. He could _feel_ the vines sliding under his skin.

 _Vines_.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, sharp points of pain erupted at the top of his neck, and Lotor felt blood start to flow over his hands. He frantically felt for the top of his neck and felt the vines erupting from under his skin, tearing and climbing.

The vines rose, ripping and sliding out of his neck and up over his face. As the vines slid under his hands, Lotor felt things growing, sprouting from the vines.

More.

Fucking.

Flowers.

His hands gripped the vines, and they were still trying to grow, to cover his face, but Lotor ripped them away, leaving gauges in his neck. Blood gushed out and covered the vines, making the flowers near indistinguishable, but he could just make out the white and purple petals. Willow flowers.

The sensation of the vines pulling from his neck was enough to make him gag. His throat constricted and Lotor threw up, covering the ground around him with bile and blood.

So much _blood_.

Lotor's breathing was heavy, and as he leaned against the wall, legs splayed in front of him, he thought of Keith.

Beautiful, graceful, Keith.

Keith, who never knew how Lotor felt.

Keith, who never felt the same way.

Keith…

He was Lotor's last thought, and then everything went dark.

His body was found the next day.

Keith had called the police when he found the bloody flowers on his dressing table, and all they had to do was follow the trail of blood.

Keith didn't attend the funeral.

* * *

Hello hello hello, this fic is part of the Keitor Fic Exchange, and is for koganeisms on tumblr. I hope you like it :) I had a lot of fun writing it. Thanks to Rie for the vines.

Flowers:

orange rose: desire& enthusiasm

anemone: forsaken-red with white inside

gardenia: secret love-white velvety looking petals

willow: sadness-white with purple streaks


End file.
